


New Routes

by mlyn



Series: Repair Work [4]
Category: Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-09
Updated: 2005-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlyn/pseuds/mlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have SO much love to Gwyn for seeing this chapter though. I sat on her couch and went over handwritten notes not once, but twice. She's also seen three different incarnations of this chapter. I love my tough beta.</p></blockquote>





	New Routes

Dom blinked. It looked like he was having trouble processing what he'd just heard. A little note of panic sang in Brian's ear before he put some effort into ignoring it.

"I'm staying here, with you," he elaborated.

Dom nodded and finally smiled. "Sounds good."

Brian pushed the phone away to quit fidgeting with it. "So, maybe we should tell Luis what's going on?"

Dom nodded again, and they went over to the main house. They told Luis that they had to work out some details but would probably be leaving within a few days. When Luis nodded and clasped Dom's hand in a firm shake, Brian was struck by how accommodating he'd been. In the states he'd get hemming and bitching before having favors like this done for him. Hell, in most cases, Americans didn't even know their next-door neighbors. Dom's place in Echo Park was different; he regularly invited people over for cook-outs and played football in the street with neighborhood kids. Maybe the karma from that was paying off, because Luis had proved to be a valuable acquaintance.

"Hold on, amigo," Luis said as they turned for the door. His friendly face took on an apologetic expression. " _Perdoneme_ , Dominic, but I need your help in the garage. For a few hours?"

Dom glanced at Brian regretfully but nodded. "Anything you want," he said to Luis.

So Brian walked back to Dom's part of the property alone. He cleaned up the breakfast dishes and gathered a load of laundry to take into town, smiling to himself when he mixed in Dom's stuff. He'd just finished closing up Dom's duffle bag when his cell rang.

"I'll bring your stuff down in a few days," Mia said when he answered. "You're paying."

"Of course. Thank you, Mia. Thank you so much. You have—"

"Save it. All I want, when I get down there, is an explanation. From you and Dom both. Got it?"

"In one."

They had a moment of awkward silence, then, from Mia: "Is Dom around?"

"He had to go in to work."

"Okay. I'll call you if I need anything." She hung up before Brian could get out a goodbye.

Hanging up made Brian feel another rush of panic. The myriad, niggling details of his life-changing decision suddenly overwhelmed him. Mia would be taking care of some of those details, such as paying off the last of his rent and renting storage space for the shit he didn't need. First, though, he needed to give her access to his bank account. There went the nest egg for new rims for the Hyundai.

He picked up the phone and a phone book for the LA area, and started making calls. The post office was told to hold his mail indefinitely until he got a post office box somewhere in Mexico, and his cable subscription was turned off. As he flipped through the slippery pages, getting ink all over his fingers, he wracked his brain for things he might be forgetting. This was obviously too big a thing to happen in a week.

When he'd exhausted the phone book, he switched over to mentally going through his possessions and making a packing list for Mia. It hurt to think of all the things that would be tossed in storage: the car paintings on his bathroom wall; his CD collection. He was trying to stick to things that would be really important, like putting together a box of files so he'd have some proof of employment and credit history. Lose your Social Security card and you're fucked for life, or at least until you can get through the hassle of making a new identity. It might not matter in Mexico, but he didn't want to take any chances.

The sentimental stuff didn't matter to Mia, so he couldn't ask her to worry about it. The table lamp his mom had passed down to him would just have to collect dust in storage for a while, rather than by his door.

After making the list he called Mia again and gave it to her, then thanked her some more. This time she hung up in mid-sentence. He decided to cool it for a while and give the phone a rest.

Wandering out to the back yard, he stripped off his shirt and flopped down into the remaining lawn chair to work on his tan. He technically had a day left of vacation, anyway. Might as well act like he was enjoying it.

Shit. He hadn't called Tanner to...resign, or...well, resign. There was no other way to color the fact that he wasn't going to reenter the country after his vacation time was up. Shifting in the chair, more out of mental discomfort than physical, he adjusted his shades and stared at his feet. He'd deal with it later...tomorrow morning.

He stayed outside working on his tan and catching up on a book for much of the day. He took a shower late in the afternoon and had just finished drying off when Dom returned, carrying a couple of grocery bags wafting fragrant smells. "Brought dinner," he said from the kitchen.

Brian came in and checked out the styrofoam take-out boxes, paired with a fresh six-pack of Corona. He plucked out a long-neck and twisted off the cap, leaning against the counter to look at Dom. "Thanks. I'm starving."

Dom gave him a glance-over. He was flushed from the heat of his shower, and his hair was wet and curling wildly in the warm, humid air. "Looks like you've had a hard day, all right."

Brian grinned, refusing to let the needling bother him. It rarely did; he'd learned quickly how to deal with Dom, just as the rest of the crew had. "Not so bad that I can't take care of you later."

That got a smirk out of Dom. He tried to cover it by taking the food out of the bags and setting one container on the counter. "Better get some food for energy, then. I'm gonna take a shower."

Brian finished off his burrito and rice quickly, then, when Dom returned to the kitchen, drank another beer while Dom ate. The dinner conversation was almost entirely one-sided: Brian yammered about the progress he'd made on the phone, both with Mia and in effectively shutting down the LA part of his life. Dom grew increasingly quiet the more Brian talked, which made Brian a little nervous...and the more nervous he got, the more he babbled. This running off at the mouth was unusual behavior and they both knew it.

"Look," Dom finally interrupted. Brian stopped in the middle of describing how he was planning to pay off his car. "Wind it down a little, okay? You're wearing me out." Dom got up and occupied himself with neatly disposing of the food. Brian was silent for a moment, then:

"Excuse me?"

Dom opened another Corona of his own and chugged half of it, then clunked it down onto the counter and talked to the sink. "I'm pretty sure there wasn't any speed in that food, so I don't know what's got you babbling this much, but it'd be cool if you knocked it off. I don't need to hear how many times you took a piss today."

There was a stunned silence from Brian, and then he said, "Gee _zus_ ," and walked outside. He dropped into the lawn chair and stared across the yard at the brick wall enclosing them.

Where the hell had that come from? Dom had brought home a mood along with dinner, and damn if Brian could figure out what it was about. Dom could be gruff with his friends and loved ones at times, but that was just nasty.

After a bit Dom finished cleaning up inside, and then the muted sounds of the TV started drifting to Brian's ears. He hung out in the back for a while, trying to zen off his mad, then went back into the bedroom. Dom said nothing, though he couldn't have avoided hearing Brian.

So Brian lay in bed for a while and stared at the ceiling, thinking over what had led up to Dom saying...what he'd said. Brian had been running off at the mouth a bit, but there was a lot of planning to be done for him to move in a week, especially when he wasn't doing the moving himself. Still...back to the one hand...he could see why his behavior had bugged Dom. He was being quite the little nesting wife. It had probably made Dom nervous, at the very least. However, he didn't feel up to approaching Dom with an apology or anything. He wasn't the one who'd been an ass.

Eventually Dom turned off the TV and went into the bathroom. He washed the sweat and grime off his face and brushed his teeth, then came into the bedroom and stripped off his work shirt without giving Brian a look. Brian did the same, and went to brush his own teeth without a word or look. By the time he came back Dom was in bed with the light out.

Brian stripped down to his shorts and crawled in next to him, never feeling more like the injured spouse than now. He wondered if the wronged man in a gay partnership ever spent the night on a couch, the way men or women did in straight relationships. He turned onto his back and stared at the night-lit ceiling, feeling uncomfortable and ridiculous and aching inside.

Dom rolled over with an exasperated sound and propped his head up, a watchful silhouette next to Brian. "Sorry about earlier."

"'Now let's get on with the angry fuck you sex'?" Brian filled in bitterly.

" _No_." Dom seemed to hear the petulance in his voice just as well as Brian did, and took another breath. "Look...let's get out of here."

"What?"

"It's too damn early for bed. Let's go for a drive." Dom got out of bed and dressed quickly in the dark. Realizing he wasn't being put on, Brian pulled on a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt. He grabbed a pair of sandals and followed Dom to the Mustang. It was fully dark out, although there was a bright moon, and the night sounds were loud.

Dom drove to the shore. Having been there recently, Brian led the way through the scrubby grass to the beach. He crossed his arms against the breeze and turned to face Dom, trying to pick out his features in the dimness. "So."

Dom was looking out at the water, warming up to what he wanted to say. When he spoke, Brian couldn't see his mouth move. The sound seemed to come out of nowhere, like a voiceover in a movie.

"You know how I feel about you. But you gotta remember, this kind of thing is new for me. I need you to give me a little room."

Brian dug his fingertips into his arms. "You want me to go back to LA?"

"No." Dom said it quickly. His silhouette jerked to look in Brian's direction. "Just?e cool. We can do this without freaking out over it. I want to do this."

"I'm cool, man." Brian tried to say it with all the lazy grace mastered by the surfers he knew. Dom laughed quietly. "Actually, I'm a little cold. Can we go back?" He looked over his shoulder toward the car, but the dunes hid it.

"Yeah." Dom came up behind him while Brian's head was turned, and his warm hand touched the back of his neck gently. When Brian looked back, Dom fit their mouths together. "Time for bed."

In the morning they were both largely uncommunicative, though Brian had discovered that this wasn't unusual for Dom. The entire team had been night owls, and Jesse an insomniac. Morning was not their best time.

Pretty much the only words exchanged were Brian saying that he'd join Dom at the garage, a crack about earning his keep, and Dom agreeing. Besides, the house was barely furnished with the necessities of life; it got a little boring around there after a while.

Not that the garage was terribly exciting. The day wore on and Dom didn't perk up much, just did his thing and kept his head down. Brian chattered to fill the silence again.

"I think it's going to be better this way, just the two of us." He bit his lip and squinted at a rusty bolt, carefully turning his wrench to avoid stripping the damn thing. "Some remote village; it sounds nice. People can visit and everything, but I think we're better off alone. We don't _need_ anyone else. Just us and a garage and some clients every once in a while. Never thought I'd have a sweet deal like that before thirty."

Dom was quiet. It was around noon, so he washed his hands and got some leftovers out of the fridge. Brian intended to keep working on switching out some old geezer's water pump, so he stayed put under the car. The garage phone rang just as Dom had started to dig into his food. Brian could hear him say, " _Garage Auto_ ," with his mouth full, and then pause.

"Vince, chill out."

Brian craned his neck around at that, trying to see Dom. Dom had swallowed his food and was now staring intently off into the middle distance, listening to the receiver gripped in his hand.

"So she's late. So what? ... Yeah, it's his house. ... Look, I'm not going to talk about it right now. If you're helping her get down here, then we'll talk about it when you get here. Cool?"

The receiver jangled indignantly when Dom banged it down. Brian heard him whisper a curse. When he slid out from under the car and got up, he found Dom rubbing his head. He did it whenever he was agitated. Knowing Vince, Brian understood the feeling.

"I know you and Vince go back a long ways," he started softly, crouching down in front of Dom, "But he's not exactly the most supportive friend in the universe. Quit thinking you have to justify shit. We're doing what we want, and how we want it done. Who cares what he thinks? He doesn't understand. He'll never understand." Reaching up, he put a hand on Dom's knee.

Dom batted his hand away and lifted his head. "Knock it off."

Brian rose, unfolding himself from the crouch. He went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Just trying to make you feel better."

"Talking shit about my best friend isn't going to do that. Where do you get off?"

Brian turned, eyebrows raised. Dom was now glowering at him from across the bay. He lifted his fist and pointed a finger. Brian flashed back to the first day he'd gotten contact, when Dom had broken up the street scuffle between him and Vince. How little things had changed after all.

"You have no right," Dom was saying. "You don't know anything about him. Stick to the shit you do know, and I'll take care of Vince. Don't fucking disrespect me or him again, you got it?"

"Yeah." Brian kept his voice calm and reasonable, his face neutral. Dom dropped his hand and looked down at his lunch. He didn't look up and stiffened slightly when Brian walked over and touched his arm. "Sorry, that _was_ out of line."

"You got a respect problem."

Brian smirked. "You got an authority problem."

Dom lifted his head suddenly, eyes narrowed. "Are you testing me?"

Still grinning, Brian lifted his eyebrows and said nothing. He'd had no idea that scuffle outside of the market had imprinted itself onto his memory with certain hormones attached, but seeing Dom like this was making him hard. He knew full well he was testing Dom, and he wasn't about to stop. This might turn out fun, because now that apologies had been uttered, Dom's anger was dissipating, trying to find something else to latch onto. Brian would be more than happy to take him on.

Dom's lip curled. He fisted a hand in Brian's work shirt and yanked, urging Brian to his knees. He went quickly, hands already working on Dom's fly before his knees had even hit the ground. Dom released his shirt and put a hand on the back of Brian's neck, pulling him closer. The show of force was unnecessary; Brian pressed his cheek against the growing bulge in Dom's pants and rubbed like he was marking Dom with his scent.

"Get on with it," Dom growled.

He had no problem letting Dom act the part of the pissed off lover, so he quickly unfastened Dom's fly and pushed his boxers aside, pulling out his flushed cock. He stroked it a few times, then gave in to the pressure of Dom's hand on his neck and lowered his head. Dom groaned quietly and pushed into his mouth, then withdrew and pushed back quickly in a fast second thrust. So it was going to be like that--quick and dirty.

But he didn't expect Dom to get quite as rough as he did: moving deep enough in his mouth to batter the tender skin of his palate, hips mashing against Brian's nose, hand gripping his head. Finally Dom's fingers tightened and pulled on his hair while bitter fluid filled his mouth. Brian swallowed quickly and leaned back on his heels while Dom pulled away. His stomach felt tight from nerves, a question swirling around in his gut. Why had his attempt to release some of Dom's tension ended up with Dom treating him like a whore? He reached out and grabbed the loose fabric of Dom's unfastened pants, pulling himself to his feet and back in close to Dom. "Y'know--"

Dom pulled at his hands, tearing Brian's grip off and moving further away until he bumped into a worktable. "Leave me alone."

Brian was silent, pushing down shame and hurt while he worked out what he wanted to say. Dom paced away, back into the shadows of the garage.

"The way I see it, you got two options. We could keep fighting each other like we have all week, or you can work out some of that aggression and maybe we can figure out some solutions." His voice was hoarse but challenging, the way it had been after the street scuffle with Vince. _Man, you know this is bullshit_. The same could be said.

And Dom whirled on him just as fast as he had that day. One of those big hands smacked into Brian's chest, pushing him back a step. "Get in the car."

In retrospect, Brian's smile probably hadn't helped matters any.

Hours later, Dom left the house and went back to the garage to finish off his day. Brian stayed in bed, partly because he didn't want to know how much it would hurt to get up.

He'd figured Dom could be rough in bed, and that he would like and be able to handle whatever Dom could bring. But over an hour of angry sex Dominic Toretto-style had turned out to be a bit much. Brian's mouth and ass actually _hurt_. He wondered if his insides looked as much like tenderized meat as they felt. And all the rest of him ached, too, in that you're-going-to-regret-this-later feeling an overly hard workout could bring. His arms and hands were sore from holding onto the headboard while Dom had pounded into him; his legs weary from staying crouched in one position for over half an hour. And his back...his back was just starting to kill him, a deep ache all the way up to his neck and jaw, which were singing their own pain tunes.

Reminding himself that he had, in fact, asked for this, he forced himself out of bed and hobbled into the bathroom. He popped a Tylenol with codeine—thank god for Mexico—and studied his mouth in the mirror. Not too bad; the redness might fade. His gaze ran over the rest of his reflection, taking stock. He touched an imprint of Dom's teeth on his right shoulder. It was sore, too.

Snorting, Brian dropped his hand and started hunting up some lotion for his ass. What a way to work out their problems.

By the time he finished self-medicating, the codeine had started to kick in and he was ready to drop. He staggered back into the bedroom and crawled onto the bed, giving up on walking upright. The faint red smears on the sheets puzzled him for a second before he realized they were blood. He gave a thought to showering, but he probably hadn't been torn that badly. He just couldn't muster the energy to get back up. He was asleep a few minutes later.

The phone woke him. He realized that it was his cell, but by then the ringing had stopped and Dom's voice had rumbled next to him.

"What? Vince?"

Brian pushed his face back into the pillow. Great, another tense conversation to rile Dom.

"She's WHAT?"

That didn't sound good.

He sat up, wincing when abused tissue complained. Dom got out of bed fast enough that the mattress jostled, then began to pace, the phone clamped to his ear. Brian could hardly gather anything from this side of the call, because Dom couldn't get a few words out before Vince would apparently interrupt him.

Brian rubbed his face and caught Dom's eye. "What is it?"

Dom turned his back, as if seeking privacy. Brian glared at him, resenting that Dom had chosen Vince over him yet again.

"Yeah, that was him," he said in a low voice into the phone. Then, after a second: "I was closer."

Brian filled that in easily. Vince wanted to know why he'd called Brian on Mia's phone—it had to be her phone, since Mia had apparently involved Vince in their little moving plan—only to get Dom. But why was he calling again? Brian checked the clock. Shit. Three a.m. This really wasn't good.

"I'll talk to him right the fuck now. Call you later."

Dom flipped the phone shut and clenched his fist around it. For a moment Brian thought he would throw it at him, even, but Dom forced himself to relax and tossed it into Brian's lap. He remained standing, bracing his hands on the waistband of his boxers while he paced the room and talked.

"She called Vince yesterday to get help clearing out your place. She got there before him and started working. The neighbors didn't think much of a strange girl going through your shit, so they called the cops. That's why she wasn't there when Vince showed."

Brian felt a chill of nerves and adrenaline wash over him. His hair felt like it was standing on end. "I'll call Tanner, get him to release her. It's just a misunderstanding."

"You're goddamn right it is!"

Brian bit his tongue, knowing that silence would be better than anything, considering Dom's mood. He flipped open the phone and picked Tanner's name out of the contact list, glancing at the clock again as the phone started to ring.

"Hey Sarge, it's Brian."

Tanner took a moment to respond. "Brian O'Conner? It's after three in the morning."

"Yeah...yes. Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but this is important. Dominic Toretto's sister Mia got arrested sometime yesterday. She was at my place, packing up some things for me. No B&E or theft, which I'm guessing is what they have her on. I'm sorry to call this late, but I just found out, and I want her to be released asap."

"What was she doing there? You still in contact with them?"

Considering the codeine and the time, Brian amazed himself with how easily the story grew. "She's hurting for money since her brother rabbited, so I told her she could take some of my stuff to a pawn shop. She doesn't deserve to be in lock-up. Let her go and drop the charges, will ya?"

Tanner sounded like he wasn't sure he believed Brian, but didn't see a good enough reason not to. "Where are you? Why aren't you in LA?"

"I came down here to San Diego for vacation, sir. I had some time coming."

"Not this much time. You were only supposed to be gone through Monday. It's Wednesday morning now. Actually, Larry Stensland called me yesterday morning after you didn't show for roll call."

Brian's mind went suddenly blank. He hadn't counted on Tanner keeping tabs on him, and this was a bitch of a lie to get caught in. While he was still trying to work up a response, Tanner continued.

"She wasn't pawning your stuff, was she?"

"Ah. No, sir." Shit shit shit shit shit...

"Were you planning on resigning first?" Tanner started to sound angry, as though Brian was purposefully screwing him over.

"I was getting around to it, sir." Brian put his head down and ran a hand through his hair. The shame of having to do this now, without a careful plan or ass-kissing beforehand, was gnawing at Brian's gut. He could imagine Lynne Tanner glaring at her husband and listening to the conversation, just the way Dom was doing to him. "This wasn't planned, Sarge. I didn't intend for this to happen when I left last week."

"Like that means a hell of a lot. Say it. I want to hear you say it."

Brian took a breath. He glanced at Dom and met his gaze for a moment, then looked back at the sheets covering his lap. "Sir, consider this my formal resignation. On the related subject, Mia Toretto committed no crime and should be released immediately."

"Done and done." Tanner spit the words out. Brian caught half of a curse before Tanner slammed the phone down on his end.

Brian dropped the phone and ran his hand over his face. His fingers were icy and shaking against his closed eyes. He'd never felt like a bigger screw-up in his life.

"She out?"

"He agreed. He's not the type to lie." Brian snorted a laugh at the irony of those words coming out of his mouth. When he looked up, Dom was still glaring at him. "What?"

"Why the hell did you quit over the phone?"

"He figured out I was lying to him about taking this much vacation time. There was nothing else to say. I respect him enough to give it to him straight, Dom." Then, before he could bite his tongue: "Wish you'd do the same for me."

"You want it straight?" Dom circled the bed to Brian's side, leaning over him and grabbing a shoulder to shake. "I think you're a fucking idiot for throwing your career away like that. I can't believe you'd be so stupid."

Brian jerked away. Dom's words stung, but at the same time Brian could recognize that part of the sting was from hearing something he agreed with. "I could be wrong, but I don't think Mexico has branches of the LAPD. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Shit, I don't know! Extended personal leave or something. You could have done this a lot better, but you burned a serious bridge tonight. I don't blame that Tanner guy for being pissed at you."

Laughing harshly, Brian rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts. "At least you two got that in common." The scary thing was, he'd never seen Dom so mad so much of the time. It didn't look like the argument was going to end any time soon, either. As for himself, he was quickly approaching the mood where he wanted to start pounding on things.

"We both think you're stupid for throwing your life away. Go figure."

The name-calling and raised voice were really getting old. Brian leaned back against the wall next to the door and looked at Dom. "So, what? You want me to go back to LA and make nice?"

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of here."

Brian stared. "Just like that."

"I don't want to deal with this. Not right now." Dom flopped onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes.

Brian watched him for a moment, then turned and punched the wall. He left a dent and scraped his knuckles, but he ignored the pain and started gathering up his stuff. He hadn't brought very much with him, so it didn't take long. Dom didn't say or do anything, not like the snide "keep walking, cop" he'd given Brian a few days prior. Brian wasn't sure if that was worse or better. But after the previous twenty-four hours, he was glad to be back on the road to LA.

* * *

He reached his house Wednesday afternoon. As he was walking to the front door, his neighbor Mrs. Reynolds stepped onto her stoop and called, "They just left a few hours ago."

"They?" He was tired and still hurting, not at all ready to fill in blanks.

"The girl and boy who were moving your things. I doubt there's much left; they packed up quickly."

Shit. He nodded and thanked her, fitting his key into the lock while she stepped back into her own house.

The place was a mess. It looked like a tornado had swept through his half of the duplex and swirled everything into a jumble. Mia had apparently made piles of things she thought she should take and leave, and organized from there. On top of his Value Village furniture were piled coffee table books, knickknacks, a jumbled mess of CDs. They'd even brought the contents of his bedroom and bathroom out here to sort through; his mattress and box spring were leaning against the blinds covering the window. It was dark in the room, and felt uncomfortable. Not cold or smelly, but...violated.

He got the bed put back together and dropped onto it, not bothering with sheets or pillows. He hadn't really intended to fall asleep, but within minutes he had done just that.

**Author's Note:**

> I have SO much love to Gwyn for seeing this chapter though. I sat on her couch and went over handwritten notes not once, but twice. She's also seen three different incarnations of this chapter. I love my tough beta.


End file.
